


Lucky X

by xueyang



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, anyway enjoy the gay, im not sure where that tag is???, scathach like fate scathach, soph made me publish before i could finish editing so be warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 11:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13589400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xueyang/pseuds/xueyang
Summary: “Gil, could you... move off my lap, please.”





	Lucky X

Gilgamesh woke to gentle fingers carding through his hair. Tensing, he searched his memory for who might be daring enough to even _think_ of touching him.

  
It had to be Diarmuid.

  
Gilgamesh had taken the hammered lancer back to his room last night, but when he had turned to leave, Diarmuid clung to him like a young babe to their mother. Gilgamesh, exhausted himself, decided to give in and lay down next to the other servant, falling into a restful sleep. On normal occasions, this would not have gone as smoothly, but he felt pity for his adorable Irish lover and his bed was actually quite comfortable.

Slowly he opened his eyes and squinted at the other servant who sat beside him, drinking water. The knight had his eyes closed, eyebrows scrunched in mild pain _likely_ due to a headache. Quickly, Gilgamesh closed his eyes and moved closer to the lancer, playfully resting his head on the other’s thigh, waiting for the inevitable reaction. Choking sounds filled the air and Gilgamesh just knew that Diarmuid’s face was decorated with that pretty pink blush of his. Hiding his smirk, Gilgamesh bit his lip and listened to the Lancer’s panicked ramblings.

“Oh my god, Gil. You. You are a horrible man. Are you doing this on purpose?” A deep breath and then those slender fingers found his hair once more. “He’s so beautiful.. Perhaps. Perhaps this is _fine_ ...” Diarmuid curled golden strands around his finger and tugged gently, causing Gilgamesh to frown. The laughter that followed was light and muffled, likely being smuggled by a gloved hand so as not to “ _wake up_ ” the “ _sleeping_ ” male.

Before Gilgamesh could truly think, he sat up and pulled Diarmuid’s hand away from his mouth. Honey-colored eyes widened in shock before Gilgamesh muffled the incoming babbling with a kiss. Lashes fluttered before Diarmuid’s eyes fell shut, slowly sinking into the kiss. His lips were plush and slightly wet from the water he had previously been drinking, making Gilgamesh shiver and hum.

Pulling away slightly, the archer frowned at his own impulsiveness. Diarmuid’s eyes were barely open as he stared at him, resembling a confused puppy after a toy had been taken away. If he had had dog ears, they would likely be pinned to his head, twitching at every small sound. A smirk crept onto his face.

  
This man was... annoyingly handsome.

  
Reaching up, Gilgamesh cupped Diarmuid’s cheek and gently brushed his thumb against the mark that held his curse. “Are you sure this doesn’t work on men?” He muttered, eyes trailing from the mark to connect with Diarmuid’s own. Diarmuid’s lips twitched into a frown before he answered, his voice soft with sadness. “It does not affect men, I assure you.” Gilgamesh’s thumb trailed from the mark to the Lancer’s bottom lip, gently pressing in. “Interesting. In this morning light you seem quite ethereal.” Gilgamesh grinned deviously. “I’d have asked to make love if we were in the past.” The way Diarmuid’s face lit up with a blush was quite possibly the cutest thing Gilgamesh had ever seen. Of course, this didn’t stop Gilgamesh from continuing his teasing.

Slowly, he moved to straddle the flustered man’s waist, cupping his cheeks with his hands. “I cannot allow you to look more beautiful than I, the King. Shall I mar your perfection with kisses and hickeys?” Diarmuid’s face changed from a pretty pink to a tomato red before he opened his mouth. “Normally, Kings dont lay with their retainers like this.” Gilgamesh’s eyes narrowed, causing Diarmuid to inhale sharply in worry, a hesitant look appearing in his eyes. “Nor do Kings normally want to kiss their retainers breathless, but I assume not everything fits a certain mold.” Gilgamesh’s words were as sharp as his eyes, a frown decorating his face. Diarmuid quickly lowered his head in respect.

“I’m sorry, my King. I should not question you.”

Gilgamesh’s eyes closed, exhaling slowly. Diarmuid knew he was weak for him. He knew that he didn’t even need to apologize, Gilgamesh forgave him as soon as those biting words had left his mouth, yet he did. He always did. If Diarmuid had to be defined by one word, Gilgamesh would choose ‘Respect’. It was not taught to him, it was more like someone had etched it into his dna. It was ingrained into his every movement, every thought, every breath, almost as if he did not know of disrespect. There were rare moments though, when Diarmuid was comfortable, that his mind would go blank and respect was not what danced on each word. Hate and anger would lace each word that tumbled from his lips and Gilgamesh would fall a little deeper. He wanted that anger, that rage, that curled around Diarmuid like a vice but was hidden under layers and layers of respect and love for his fellow knights, masters and lords. He wanted that hate that ripped at Diarmuid’s own heart, his hate that he held for himself and many of his previous lords. He wanted the aggressive side of the quiet knight. He wanted Diarmuid’s true self, the self hidden under layers of learned mannerisms.

Slowly, he opened his eyes to see Diarmuid watching him, those beautiful orbs scanning for any negative reactions. Keeping his face blank, he leaned forward, brushing his nose lightly against Diarmuid’s own. The reaction was immediate and made Gilgamesh let out a loud laugh. Diarmuid’s nose scrunched adorably, not unlike a small bunnies’, and then a sneeze erupted, causing him to shake his head and tears to spring to his eyes. A betrayed huff and a sniff followed as Gilgamesh grinned at him, playful mirth dancing across his face.

“You are insufferable.” Diarmuid muttered, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand while rolling his eyes. Gilgamesh melted, pressing a kiss to Diarmuid’s cheek in response before muttering softly in his ear. “You have a hold on me like no one else, young knight. The King does not show weakness. He does not yield and certainly does not confess his feelings, but for you I would do all of these things and more. You are my weakness, and like all weaknesses I should have you killed.” A dramatic pause, causing Diarmuid to let the reality sink in.

“You’re going to kill me here?” His voice held no emotion, but when Gilgamesh pulled back and looked into those expressive eyes, he saw a storm.

“I should.” Gilgamesh drawled, a hand coming up to wrap around Diarmuid’s neck. A light squeeze. “But you have taken my heart, and without my heart I will be nothing. To live without a heart is to fail as a King and as a being.” Anger ripped through the Lancer in that moment, he could feel it radiating off the warrior like waves. He didn’t say anything but his eyes held pure annoyance, a small frown making way on his face.

Gilgamesh sighed.

Perhaps making him angry wasn’t as fun as he had hoped it to be. Instead, the archer only felt drained, a small frown of his own appearing. “I’m sorry, my love.” He whispered the endearment like something sacred, causing Diarmuid to bite his lip. Ever since they had started dating and Diarmuid had taken the title of retainer (mostly to compete with Iskandar), Gilgamesh’s extreme personality and ego slowly broke down. Of course, he was still as haughty and egocentric as ever when out and about with people, but with Diarmuid he was softer.

Diarmuid’s gloved hand cupped Gilgamesh’s cheek, caressing gently. “You’re forgiven, my King.” Heat flashed deep in Gilgamesh’s belly before he willed it away. He would not ruin such a precious moment with his worldly desires. Not this time at least.

  
Turning his head, he pressed a small kiss to his lover’s palm. “How is your head? You had quite a bit to drink last night, didn’t you?” A small chuckle left Diarmuid’s lips as he answered. “Considering you ended up in my bed, you probably have a better idea of how much I drank than I, myself. The headache isn’t too bad though, just bothersome.”

Gilgamesh summoned a portal with a flick of his fingers and a vile fell into an outstretched hand. Carefully, he uncapped it before handing it to Diarmuid. “Drink this. It should get rid of your headache and whatever queasiness still rests in your stomach.”  
Hesitantly, Diarmuid sniffed the drink before pinching his nose and throwing it back like a shot. A disgusted groan sounded before he sent Gilgamesh an annoyed glare. “We both know there’s no medicine that can work well and taste good.” Gilgamesh reminded gently but a smirk still crept onto his face. Diarmuid scrunched his nose before sighing, leaning in to give a quick kiss to his lover’s lips in a silent thanks.

“Gil, could you... move off my lap, please.” Gilgamesh frowned, a whine threatening to sound but he smuggled it down. He was not _that_ pitiful. Slowly, he slid from his lover’s lap to the bed beside him with a quiet huff.

“I’m not that heavy.”

“You’re not.” Diarmuid agreed, pursing his lips as he tried to rub the feeling back into his legs. “My legs were going numb though and I hate that feeling.”

“You should be blessed for it is I, the King, that made your legs that way.” Gilgamesh smirked, leaning forward to kiss away the inevitable pout that would soon appear on Diarmuid’s lips.

“I will kill you.” Diarmuid muttered, pushing Gilgamesh down flat on the bed to straddle him in revenge. “You would not kill your King.” Gilgamesh countered confidently, tugging Diarmuid down by the collar to kiss him. “Evil.” The lancer whispered against his King’s lips, lashes fluttering as he stared into his lover’s red eyes. “Hardly, love.” Gilgamesh’s voice reached a low growl, but no malice was held, only a tint of lust.

Diarmuid grinned and pulled back, stretching his arms high above his head, popping his back and exposing a bit of his stomach in the process just to tease. “Well.. I have lunch with our Master and Arturia today. I should get goin’ soon.” A cold hand pressed against the exposed skin on his stomach, caressing gently. “Stay with me awhile, my knight. I will surely please you better than our Master or Arturia could.” Diarmuid chuckled, grabbing Gilgamesh’s wrist to pull his hand away. “Don’t say that right after I’ve just made up my mind...” A scoff and Gilgamesh sat up, leaning back on one of his hands. “If you won’t stay… what am I to do alone? Your room is quite boring you know.”

“My room is not fitting for my King? How horrible!” An overly exaggerated gasp left Diarmuid as he playfully smirked at his lover. “Shall I blow off my friends just to ensure my King’s entertainment?” Gilgamesh chuckled, kissing Diarmuid’s cheek.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

Diarmuid’s breath hitched slightly, eyes widening before a soft blush spread across his cheeks. “I.. love you too.”

“Alright! Go get ready! I will find someone to entertain me while you are gone.” Well concealed panic was hidden in his voice, obviously he hadn’t meant to say what he had whispered. “Right.” Diarmuid agreed, taking pity on his inexperienced lover and standing up, walking away to get dressed in proper clothing.

Gilgamesh had never really said ‘I love you’ to anyone before. Perhaps he had muttered it to Enkidu at one point, but there was no clear memory of it and he doubted his friend would remember either. Love was not something he was very open to. He desired, yes, but never truly loved anyone or anything. Even his treasures were not subjected to the feeling he closed off for so long, but somehow Diarmuid was pulling that emotion out, tugging gently at the seams with those dainty fingers of his. Perhaps Gilgamesh would let him.

Diarmuid changed out of light sleep clothes to his regular fighting attire, running his fingers through his hair with a quiet sigh. Gilgamesh rolled onto his stomach, watching with heavy lids. “You really won’t stay?”

“I don’t remember my King being so needy. Has something happened?” His tone was playful but his eyes held a deeper concern.

Gilgamesh blinked. “Nobody has ever described me as needy.”

A pause.

“Well I-” Diarmuid started before he was rudely interrupted by a series of loud knocks on the door.

“Hey Diar! Open up! Me an’ Scathach wanted to know how ya fared last night with all those ugly bastards! Yer not ignorin’ me this time!”

Diarmuid groaned just as Gilgamesh growled in annoyance, pushing himself up quickly and stalking to the door in just his underwear and shirt. Throwing the door open, Gilgamesh yelled so loud it shook Diarmuid’s desk and dresser.

“Get the fuck out you fucking mongrel!”

**Author's Note:**

> i love them both so much blease understand.


End file.
